The Philosophers Stone
by RoniCullen
Summary: When Harry goes to Hogwarts for his first year, instead of meeting Ron and Hermione, he meets Nik Lupin, Alex Black and Mia Pettigrew. Together, the four next generation Marauder's embark on a quest to find the Philosophers Stone.
1. Prologue

**A/N Just a few things I want to say before you start reading the chapter: **

**It follows the book, but there will be slight changes in the storyline because of the characters I introduced. **

**Everything about Alex, Nik and Mia's parents will be explained but if you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the reviews. **

**And now, without further ado, on with the story:**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize he had just arrived on a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled.

"I should have known." He had found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again. The next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was staring at a rather severe looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" She asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day."

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen parties and feasts on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh, yes, everyone's celebrating, all right! You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no. Even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on the news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent. I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense…"

"You can't blame them. We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that. But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors… A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?" She asked, looking over at him.

"It certainly seems so. We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"

"A _what?_"

"A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you. As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone-."

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense… For eleven years, I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_. It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who'. I have sever seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't. But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know… Oh, all right, Voldemort…was frightened of."

"You flatter me. Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too, well, noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

"The owls are nothing to the _rumors_ flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him? What they're _saying_ is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potter's. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are…are…that they're… dead." Dumbledore bowed his head. McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I don't want to believe it. Oh, Albus!" He patted her shoulder.

"I know… I know…"

"That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But… he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows how or why, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke. And that's why he's gone." Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's… It's true? After all he's done…all the people he's killed…he couldn't kill a little boy. It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him….but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess. We may never know." McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes under her spectacles.

"What of the other Marauder's, Albus? Lily and James's closest friends?"

"Peter is dead…"

"Oh! He was such a kind boy, if a bit shy and lonely… What of his wife, Miranda? What of their daughter?"

"Miranda and Mia are safe. They've moved away from Godric's Hollow and taken on Miranda's maiden name. Honeycutt. Ha… It always made me laugh when she was in school." Dumbledore told her, chuckling.

"And she hardly appreciated the laughter when her name was said… What of Sirius and his daughter?"

"Sirius is in Azkaban."

"Whatever for?" She asked in shock.

"The murder of Peter Pettigrew." McGonagall stared at Dumbledore in complete and utter shock.

"He would never… He…What of his daughter? The poor girl lost her mother the day she was born, she couldn't have lost her father now…"

"Alexis is being cared for by Remus Lupin. He has come out the best in this situation. Or the worst, possibly. All his friends are gone…"

"So Remus will care for Alexis and his own son? His name was Niklaus, was it not?"

"Indeed."

"What of Elina? His wife?"

"Killed by a death eater, unfortunately…"

"Oh dear…" Albus took out his pocket watch and looked at it.

"Hagrid is late. I suppose it was he that told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes. And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean…. You _can't_ mean the people who live here? Dumbledore, you can't! I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got a son. I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here?!"

"It's the best place for him. His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter? Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter. These people will never understand him! He'll be famous, a legend, I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future! There will be books written about him. Every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly. It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he could walk or talk. Famous for something he won't even remember. Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind and swallowed hard.

"Yes… Yes… You're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak as if he might be hiding the boy underneath.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life."

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place. But you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to… What was that?" A low rumble had broken the silence around them. They looked up and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the street in front of them. If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed and so wild; long tangles of bushy black beard and hair hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms, he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid, at last. And where did you get that motorbike?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore. Young Sirius Black lent it to me, before… you know…. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir. House was almost destroyed but I got him out all right before the muggles started swarming around. He fell asleep as we was flying over Bristol." Dumbledore and McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just barely visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet black hair over his forehead, they could see a curiously shaped scar, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where-?" McGonagall started to ask.

"Yes. He'll have that scar forever." Dumbledore informed her.

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well, give him here, Hagrid, we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursley's house.

"Could I… Could I say goodbye to him, sir?" Hagrid asked. He bent his great, shaggy head and gave Harry what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shh! You'll wake the muggles!" McGonagall hissed.

"S-s-sorry. But I c-c-can't stand it… Lily an' James dead… an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles."

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found!" McGonagall whispered, patting him gingerly on the arm. Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently down on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and came back to the other two. For a full minute, the three of them stood and looked at the bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling light in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well, that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." Dumbledore finally said.

"Yeah. I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, sir…" Hagrid muttered. Wiping his streaming eyes with his sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorbike and kicked the engine into life. With a roar, it lifted itself into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon I expect, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore told her, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner, he stopped and took out the Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to the street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry." He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

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**A/N Comments, questions, etc, etc, are welcome in the reviews. I'll have the next chapter up today because I know this one was very boring. **


	2. Journey From Platform 9 34

**A/N We all know the story of how Harry found out he was a wizard, so I'm saving you from boredom and starting here.**

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Harry looked around the train station in wonder. Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him how to get to Platform 9 ¾. Then something caught his eye. He turned to watch a man in his thirties with blonde/brown hair and two dark haired kids walk past him. The children, who looked to be his age, were pushing trolleys with _owls _on them. Heart hammering, Harry pushed his trolley after them. They stopped at the wall between platforms nine and ten. When he caught up to them, the man was talking to the two kids.

"I'll go through first so you can see it works." He seemed to direct this at the girl, who looked doubtful. He walked towards the wall and then went straight through. Harry gasped. He had disappeared _into the wall_. He hesitantly walked forward.

"Uh, excuse me." The girl and the boy turned to look at him. They both had dark hair and appeared to be the same age, but they didn't look like siblings exactly. The boy was tall and lanky with dark brown hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. He resembled a younger version of the man, Harry thought, though he must have inherited his dark hair from his mother. The girl was shorter and had a more athletic frame with inky black hair, pale skin and blue eyes, not resembling the man in any way. In fact, she didn't look like she belonged in the boy's family at all.

"Oh, first time at Hogwarts? It's our first year too." The boy told him, grinning widely and motioning to himself and the other girl. Harry nodded to him.

"Yes… The thing is… I don't know how to… Um…" He was embarrassed to ask. Obviously they knew how and he felt like an idiot for asking.

"How to get on the platform?" The boy finished for him. Harry nodded again.

"All you've got to do is walk straight through the barrier. It's simple really, but apparently some people think they'll run smack into it." He shot a look at the girl, who narrowed her eyes at him in response.

"I'm Nik, by the way. Nik Lupin." He stuck out a hand towards Harry. Harry shook it.

"Harry Potter." Nik's eyes widened in shock. The girl stepped forward, bumping Nik out of her way.

"Don't be a freak, Nik!" She told him, speaking for the first time. She turned to Harry.

"Alex Black." She introduced herself. He shook her hand as well. Then she turned to Nik, chin up, back straight and looking confident.

"Why don't you show him if you're so smart then, Nik?" The girl, Alex, suggested. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Fine. I will." He took his trolley and ran through the barrier, disappearing just like the man had. Alex turned to Harry.

"Why don't you go next? I'll be right behind you." She told him, absentmindedly stroking the small white owl through the cage on her trolley.

"Er… Okay." He pushed his trolley so that it was lined up to the barrier. A very solid looking barrier. He glanced back at Alex, as if for reassurance. She wasn't looking at him, though; she seemed very concentrated on adjusting the owl cage on her trolley. He sighed and broke into a hard run towards the barrier. The barrier was getting closer and closer… He wouldn't be able to stop… He closed his eyes… Then he broke through the barrier, like it wasn't there at all. He opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said 'Hogwarts Express, 11:00'. Behind him, Alex came through, almost bumping into him.

"Sorry." She told him, brushing some strands of hair out of her eyes. A few feet away, closer to the train, the man who had been with them before was talking to Nik.

"The train's about to leave. Let's go." Alex told Harry, nudging his arm. They got their biggest trunks and the owl cages on the train before Alex half lead, half pulled Harry over to the man and Nik.

"-and he's Harry Potter!" Nik was finishing telling him. Alex rolled her eyes. A strange form of recognition flashed across the man's face, like he had met Harry before. Harry wanted to ask him about it, but Alex was speaking before he could.

"Knock it off, Nik. Bye, Uncle Remus." Alex hugged him quickly. With that said, Nik and Alex climbed onto the train. When Harry turned back to the man, he was hurrying back through the barrier. Harry got on the train. He walked through the narrow isles, trying to find an empty compartment. Suddenly Alex was beside him.

"You can sit with me if you like." She motioned towards a compartment that was empty except for her shoulder bag and the sweater she'd tossed onto the seats.

"Thanks." He joined her in the compartment.

"Where's you're… er, brother?" He asked, still trying to figure out their relationship. She flopped down in the seat across from him, next to her bag and sweater.

"Adoptive brother. Or god-brother, seeing as his father is my god-father. Whichever you prefer to say is right because it's both really. And apparently some kid brought a tarantula in a box onto the train and he just had to go see it." She rolled her eyes again. Then she leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.

"If you don't mind me asking, do you really have that scar?" She asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. Harry lifted his fringe to show the lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Wicked." She amended. She rolled up her medium length sleeve to show a scar on the inside of her elbow.

"I got this from a garden gnome. But their salvia is very beneficial so…" She trailed off, rolling her sleeve down again.

"I've got one on my foot too, but that's from going outside barefoot and stepping on a sharp rock." She seemed keen on one-upping him in the scar area. Nik came into the compartment.

"Hey." He greeted them, flopping down next to Harry.

"Have fun with the tarantula?" Alex asked him.

"Yeah. So much I brought it back. See? It's by your foot!" Harry swore he had never seen an eleven year old girl move so fast to pull her legs up. Then, realizing he had been teasing her, she looked like she wanted to jump on top of Nik, grab him by the throat and throttle him. He smirked before turning to Harry.

"If she's every annoying you too much, mate, just use threats involving spiders and lizards. She'll run." Alex shot him a look that should have killed him but then looked back at Harry.

"And if he annoys you too much, just come to me. I'll scare him real good." She glared at Nik one last time before settling down in her seat again.

"So are all you're family wizards?" Harry asked, looking between Alex and Nik.

"I think so. Alex, dad and I really only talk to each other." Nik explained.

"What about you? I heard about your parents. I'm sorry." Alex told Harry. He shook his head at her.

"I don't even remember them… Wish I did, but… I was raised by my aunt and uncle. Muggles. They were horrible." He explained. He shook the thought of the Dursley's out of his head.

"What about you? I mean, you said you were adopted…" He trailed off, wondering if he had gone too far.

"Mum's dead. My dad… We… Uh, we don't talk about him." She told him, ducking her head.

"In Azkaban; the wizard prison." Nik whispered to Harry, too low for her to hear him. Harry nodded once and said nothing more.

* * *

Around half past twelve, a smiling lady slid their door open.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" Harry, Alex and Nik jumped up. After buying some of everything, they spread it out on the empty seats. Harry picked up a chocolate frog.

"These aren't really frogs, are they?" He asked, staring at the package.

"No. But it's the cards you want. See what yours is; I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Nik, he wouldn't know about any of this." Alex scolded him like a misbehaving puppy. She scooted over to sit beside Harry.

"Chocolate frogs have cards inside them to collect. All of them are famous witches and wizards. Nik's got about five hundred of the stupid things."

"They aren't stupid! And this comes from the girl who collects stuffed animals!" Nik shot back. Alex looked horrified that he would say such a thing; like collecting stuffed animals was a horrible crime.

"She likes playing tough. She can talk the talk but she can't walk the walk." Nik explained to Harry, not even bothering to keep his voice down as he laughed at his god-sister.

"Oh shut it!" Alex told him. Harry unwrapped his card and looked at it. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose and flowing silver hair, beard and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name 'Albus Dumbledore'.

"So _this_ is Dumbledore." Harry said aloud.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" Nik gasped. Alex picked up a chocolate frog package and threw it at him, nailing him right in the forehead. Harry read the back of the card.

_Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for the defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, _

_For the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood_

_And his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. _

_Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling. _

Harry flipped the card back over and, to his surprise, the picture was blank, like no one had ever been there.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day, can you? He'll be back." Nik told him.

"You know, in the Muggle world, people just stay in photos." Harry told him.

"Do they? They don't move at all? Weird…" Nik frowned, thinking about it. Harry picked up a box of Bertie's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those." Alex warned. Off Harry's confused look, she went on.

"They mean _every _flavor."

"There's ordinary flavored ones, sure, like peppermint, chocolate, marmalade… but there's also ones like spinach, liver and tripe. I swear, I got a bogey flavored one once." Nik explained in detail. Harry looked disgusted by that; Alex looked annoyed.

"Yeah, well, you swear about lot of things." Harry could swear that they were always fighting. He wondered if that was normal for siblings and sort of wished he had one to test the theory. He could tell that Alex and Nik didn't actually hate each other from the way they were currently daring each other to try a funny looking grey Bertie Bean. Finally, Alex took the challenge and nibbled the end of it. She started coughing.

"Pepper." She announced once she was done hacking. They tried out all the beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee and even sardine. Nik and Alex backed off before he did. Alex gnawed on a licorice wand while Nik continued going through the chocolate frogs. Outside the window, the countryside was now flying by and becoming wilder. The neat fields were gone, replaced with woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills. A boy came to their compartment door.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" He asked them tearfully.

"I've lost him!" He wailed when they shook their heads.

"He'll turn up." Harry assured him.

"Yes… Well, if you see him…" He walked off.

"If I had a toad, I'd be _trying_ to loose him." Nik said with a low chuckle.

"You just don't know the love for a pet." Alex told him, staring wistfully out the window. Harry wondered if she already missed her owl that she seemed so attached to back on the platform.

"You get along with animals better than humans." Nik told her.

"That's not a bad thing!" She shot back. Just then, a girl came to their compartment. She was already dressed in her Hogwarts robes and she had light blonde hair that came down to her mid back, pale skin and sea green eyes. In one pocket of her Hogwarts robes was a rat, which seemed to be her pet; he was even wearing a tiny collar that had the name 'Rodney'. Harry could only assume that was a nickname for 'rodent'.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

"We've already told him we haven't seen it." Nik replied. She nodded once and turned to go but then turned back and stared at Harry.

"My word! You're Harry Potter! I've read all about you. You're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century!" She said.

"I am?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Goodness, didn't you know?" She asked. Then she changed the subject entirely.

"I'm Mia Pettigrew-Honeycutt, by the way." Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Alex suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable as they introduced themselves.

"Nik Lupin."

"Harry Potter, as you know."

"Alex."

"No last name, Alex?" Mia asked, frowning in confusion. Alex swallowed hard.

"Alex… Black." Mia's mouth popped open and it took her a minute to close it.

"Oh… I'd better be off." She hurried away. Alex looked down at her feet.

"What was that about?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Her dad is in prison for… uh…" For once, Nik seemed to be at a lost for words. Alex got to her feet.

"It's simple, really. My father is the murderer of her father. But my father didn't just murder Peter Pettigrew, he annihilated him! There wasn't even a body! I…I need some air." She hurried out of the compartment. Harry and Nik were silent for a minute.

"So what happens once we get to Hogwarts?" Harry finally asked.

"We'll be sorted into houses."

"Houses?"

"Yeah. There's Gryfindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"Slytherin is the house that Vol… You Know Who was in, right?" Harry asked. Nik nodded.

"Right. My dad was in Gryfindor. Ironically, so was Alex's…" Just then, three boys entered the compartment.

"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" The blonde boy asked.

"Yes." He was staring at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean, standing on either side of the blonde boy like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle. And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. You'll soon find that some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends of the wrong sort, Potter. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for my own, thanks." He said coolly.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either!" Harry and Nik both stood up to face them.

"Say that again." Harry threatened.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out right now."

"But I don't feel like leaving. And the only back-up you've got is a Lupin. Friends of the _Black's_. Distant and removed cousins, you see, the only bad blood in my family!" Suddenly Alex was back in the compartment. She shoved Crabbe and Goyle out and then grabbed Malfoy by the collar. He let out a yell.

"How dare you touch me?!" He cried. Alex shoved him out of the compartment too.

"See ya later, baby cousin." She gave him another shove to send him away. As she turned back to Harry and Nik, she seemed oddly proud of herself.

"So? What did I miss?" Just then, Mia came racing over. Rodney stuck his head out of her pocket and glanced around.

"What has been going on?!" She demanded, looking between retreating boys sprinting down the aisle and the proud Alex.

"Nothing that Alex didn't handle." Nik told her, slinging his arm around Alex's shoulder.

"Have you met Malfoy before?" He added, turning to Harry. Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"That family!" Alex was fuming.

"They were the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. Of course, Uncle Remus doesn't believe a word of it! He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side…" She explained.

"Can we help you with something?" Nik asked, directing this at Mia.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on. I've just been up front to speak to the driver and we'll be arriving soon. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'd best not get into trouble, especially before we're there!" She spoke like a mother to three misbehaving children.

"Alex was fighting, not us!" Nik said, stepping back from his god-sister. She shot him a look. It was amazing how fast he threw her under the bus.

"Would you mind leaving while we change?" Harry added, looking between Mia and Alex. They walked out of the compartment and out of sight. They leaned against the wall while they waited for Harry and Nik to change. They didn't speak to each other for a minute. Then Alex broke the silence.

"Would it be offense if I said your rat was ugly?" She asked. Mia looked hurt and offended, as if Alex had called _her_ ugly. She scooped Rodney out of her pocket and cuddled him to her chest.

"He's a pretty rat."

"The fact that he's a rat-." Alex started.

"He's a pretty rat!" Mia repeated sternly, shooting her look. Alex said nothing for another minute, wondering how long it took guys to get dressed.

"Where'd you get him?" She asked finally, motioning towards the rat Mia had placed back in her robes pocket.

"In my garden."

"Oookay… So you found a rat in your garden and the first thing that ran through your mind was 'hey, I want to keep him as a pet'?" Alex asked in disbelief.

"He liked me." She said simply, as if that explained everything.

"Oh, well in that case…" Alex said sarcastically. Another death look from Mia. Alex sighed.

"Okay, look." She turned to face Mia, who looked mildly surprised.

"I know that you know that… that thing that happened with our fathers. But we are not our fathers. Let's get that straight right now." Alex told her. Mia took a deep breath and then offered her hand.

"Frie-… Acquaintances?" She stopped herself from saying 'friends'. Alex took what she could get and shook her hand.

"Acquaintances." She agreed.

"Good. I'll be off." Mia turned on her heel and left, whispering words of comfort to Rodney the Rat. Harry and Nik came out of the compartment.

"You want to change now?" Nik asked.

"Took you long enough." Alex huffed and went to change.

* * *

A few minutes later, a voice echoed through the train.

"_We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately._" Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and he saw that Alex was paler than usual and Nik was fidgeting with his sleeves and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. They went to join the line forming in the aisle. Harry was in front of Alex and Nik, who was bringing up the rear. Nik kept bouncing and he knocked into Alex, who was looking white as a ghost.

"Ouch! Stop that!" Alex complained, moving closer to Harry to avoid getting knocked into again. The train slowed and finally came to a complete stop. People made their way not-so-orderly towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Alex and Nik forced to huddle together beside him, due to both the tiny platform with more kids that should be put there and for warmth, though neither of them looked happy about it. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Harry heard a familiar voice.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" Hagrid asked.

"C'mon, follow me. Any more firs-years? Mind yer step now! Firs-years follow me!" He called. Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, save for Alex and Nik's quiet bickering and Neville, the boy who lost his toad, sniffing once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec! Jus' round this bend here!" Hagrid called over his shoulder. There was a loud 'oooh!' from the first years. The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more n' four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Nik, Alex and Mia shared one boat.

"Everyone in?" Shouted Hagrid, who had a boat all to himself.

"Right then… FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Alex rolled up her sleeve and leaned over the side of the boat to let her fingers skim across the water as well.

"You might fall out." Mia told her from where she sat in the middle of the boat, hugging herself.

"I'm perfectly fine." Alex shot back.

"I might push you out." Nik added. Alex pulled her arm back and sat up straight again. They came closer to the cliff the castle stood upon.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled. Mia got down on the bottom of the boat, knees to her chest, hands covering her head.

"It's not an air raid, Mia." Alex told her, scoffing as she simply ducked her head.

"I'm just following the rules." Mia shot back in the same tone Alex has used before. The boats glided through a thick curtain of ivy. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor. They climbed out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy! You there. This your toad?" Hagrid asked as he checked the boats.

"Trevor!" Neville cried out blissfully, holding out his hands. He was awarded his toad and then they clambered up the passage way after Hagrid, coming out at last to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up some stone steps and stood right in front of the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	3. The Sorting Hat

**A/N First of all: **

**Mrrp01, yes Hermione and Ron do still exist, however they will not be main characters. **

**And, ThisIsMeAndYou, yes, Peter is still going to be evil. The only thing that changed is he has a daughter. **

* * *

The door swung open at once. A tall, black haired witch in emerald green robes stood there. She had a stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs-years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fit the whole Dursley house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from the doorway to the right; the rest of the school must already be here. But Professor McGonagall showed the first-years into a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mia and Alex almost standing on top of each other and not looking thrilled about it.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you're here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slyntherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Alex's ruffled hair. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair while Alex ran her still slightly wet fingers through her hair and called it good.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She swiftly left the chamber. Harry swallowed hard and turned to Nik.

"How exactly for they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think."

"Uncle Remus said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Alex piped up. Mia looked as horrified as Harry felt. A test? In front of the whole school? He didn't know any magic yet. What on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around and saw everyone else looked terrified, except for Alex. Alex was looking like she had back on the train, which was to say, proud of herself, which he figured should scare him. No one was talking except for Mia, who was talking to a girl with bushy hair about the spells they'd studied so far. Harry gulped. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom. Then something happened which made him jump about a foot in the air: several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?" He gasped. So did many of the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room, talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first-years. They seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-." What looked like a fat little monk was saying.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not even really a ghost… I saw, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students! About to be sorted, I suppose?" The friar asked. A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now! The Sorting Ceremony's about to start!" Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line and follow me." Professor McGonagall told the first years. Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned into lead, Harry got into line behind Nik and in front of Alex. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall and through the pair of double doors into the Great Hall. Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering

candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry

looked upwards and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History." He heard Mia whisper. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens. Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Maybe that had to try and get a rabbit out of the hat, Harry thought wildly. Noticing that all the other students in the Great Hall were watching the hat, he stared at it too. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth. And then the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall, for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can't see, so try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart; you might belong in Hufflepuff where they are just and loyal, those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil; or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind, where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind; or perhaps in Slytherin uou'll make your real friends, those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands, though I have none, for I'm a Thinking Cap!" Halfway through the son, Harry could hear Alex whisper to Nik something about 'kill me now'. The whole hall burst into applause at the end of the son. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat?" Nik asked, looking at Alex accusingly. She smirked.

"Yep."

"You knew?"

"I asked Uncle Remus. You didn't. Obviously you are not going to get into Ravenclaw." Harry smiled weakly. Not at her insult to her god-brother, but at the relief of having to just try on the hat. But he did wish he could try it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking an awful lot; he didn't feel brave or quick-witted at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who fit a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She explained.

"Abbot, Hannah!" A pink faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put the on the hat (which fell over her eyes) and sat down.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Black, Alexis." Alex flinched at her name being called. Whispers went around the Great Hall as she slowly went to put on the hat.

"Black? Oh, she'll be Slytherin for sure!"

"Ugh. I hope she's not in the same house as me."

"Slytherin is gaining a new member, I see." Nik told a few of them to shut up, full of hostility towards them, before focusing on Alex, who had reached the stool. No one could miss the fact that her hands were shaking as she put on the hat.

"_Ah… Cunning and tricky as a Slytherin I see…But you are brave at heart. More so than some of the others I've seen. Hmm… Better be…_" The hat was whispering so only she could hear. She had her eyes squeezed shut, waiting tensely for him to decide.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Alex looked relieved as she handed the hat back to McGonagall. The Gryffindor table had already started clapping and yelling things at the Slytherin table, such as 'we got her!' and 'Beat that!' as she went to join that table.

"Bones, Susan."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Granger, Hermione."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Honeycutt, Mia." Dumbledore chuckled at her last name, but no one seemed to notice. Mia hurried forward and jammed the hat on her head eagerly.

"_Smart as a Ravenclaw, but loyal… And brave. I suppose it ought to be…_"

"GRYFFINDOR!" She grinned and ran to join the table. Harry saw her and Alex exchange odd looks, like they wanted to congratulate each other but weren't sure if they should. 

"Longbottom, Neville."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Lupin, Niklaus." Nik walked forward and put the hat on his head, shoulders tense in anticipation.

"_Hmm… Loyal as a Hufflepuff, not as cunning as Alexis and not cunning enough to not have a good, light heart…But you are brave…_"

"GRYFFINDOR!" Alex awarded him a quick hug as he went to sit down next to her.

"Malfoy, Draco."

"SLYTHERIN!" It had barely touched the boy's head…

"Potter, Harry." Whispers went around, just as there had been when Alex was called up.

"Harry Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter? Here?" He stepped over to the stool and the hat was dropped over his eyes, blocking out the views of people craning their heads at their tables to get a better look at him.

"_Hmm… Difficult… Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes… And a nice thirst to prove yourself, not that's interesting. So where shall I put you?_" The hat whispered. Harry gripped the edge of the stool and thought 'not Slytherin, not Slytherin'. He didn't feel very brave, but he would have loved the hat forever if it put him in Gryffindor with Nik and Alex.

"_Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all in your head and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that… No? Well, if you're sure. Better be… _GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted the last word so the whole hall could hear. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was so relived to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet, even louder and more excited than Alex had received. He flopped down in his seat next to Nik and shook everyone's hand as they congratulated him. Two red haired twins were yelling 'We got Potter! We got Potter!' at the top of their lungs. He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest to him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him a thumbs-up. Harry grinned back at him. And there, in the center of the High Table, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban. And now there were only three people left to be sorted. 'Turpin, Lisa' became a Ravenclaw while 'Weasley, Ronald' became Gryffindor and 'Zabini, Blaise' joined Slytherin. Then McGonagall put the scroll, sorting hat and stool away. Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He only just realized how hungry he was. The sweets on the train seemed ages ago. Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming and his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or not.

"Is he… a bit mad?" Harry asked Nik.

"Mad? He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?" Nik asked airily. Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious. The ghost in the ruff floated past.

"That does look good." He said sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you-?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of GryffindorTower."

"I've heard about you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!" Nik cried.

"How can you be 'nearly headless'?" Alex asked.

"Like this." He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell on his shoulder as if on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased with the stunned and disgusted looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back on his neck, coughed and went on.

"So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor has gone so long without winning. Slytherin has got the cup six years in a row now! The Bloody Baron's getting unbearable; he's the Slytherin ghost. Harry, Alex and Nik looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" Alex asked with more interest that anyone would have had.

"I never asked." said Nearly Headless Nick delicately. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice cream in any flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding… As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half and half. Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Seamus said. The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?"

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch. But the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came around for tea and he was hanging me out an upstairs window by my ankles when my great auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his forehead.

"What is it?" Alex asked in concern.

"N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher's look… a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" He asked Nik.

"Oh… That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to…everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn't look at him

again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.

"Ahem… just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used in corridors between classes. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Harry laughed but he was one of the few that did.

"He's not serious, right?" He asked Nik.

"Must be."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to

get a fly off the end and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune. And off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something please, whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees, our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff, for now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff,

so teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot." Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" The Gryffindor first-years followed the Gryffindor Prefect, Percy Weasley, through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the

people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of them and as Percy took a step towards them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves. A poltergeist." Percy whispered to the first-years. He raised his voice.

"Peeves! Show yourself!" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop and a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

'Oooooooh! Ickle firsties! What fun!" He said, with an evil cackle. He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

'You want to watch out for Peeves. The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us Prefects." Percy said as they set off again.

"Here we are." At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" She asked.

"Caput Draconis." Percy replied and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it (Neville needed a leg up) and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. Alex waved to Nik and Harry and then hurried to follow the rest of the girls. At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the towers – they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep-red velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" Nik asked Harry through the hangings. Harry was going to ask Nik if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully. And then there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it. Then Malfoy turned into the hook nosed teacher, Professor Snape, whose laugh became high and cold. There was a burst of green light and Harry woke up sweating and shaking. He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.


	4. The Potions Master

**A/N Hope you guys like this chapter. As always, please review. **

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"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to Sirius Black's daughter."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?" Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory next day. People queuing outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk. The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop waste-paper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose and screech, 'GOT YOUR CONK!'. Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Nik managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door which unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing. Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the lessons themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Nik and Harry were in agreement that Alex was horrible at that class, simply because if she could be sleeping during it, she would be. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learnt how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for. Easily the most boring lesson was History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff-room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first lesson he took the register, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they had sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Mia had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Mia a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Nik and Alex didn't have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry, Nik and Alex. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?' Harry asked Nik as he poured sugar on his porridge. Alex had put Nik in charge of their schedule, just for the simple fact that she didn't want to carry around the long scroll with the times in her own bag.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins." Nik replied.

"Snape's the head of Slytherin house. They saw he always favors them. We'll be able to see if it's true." Alex said with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"Wish McGonagall favored us." Harry muttered. Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn't stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once.

_Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) _

_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to _

_come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear _

_all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. _

_Hagrid _

Harry borrowed Nik's quill, scribbled 'Yes, please, see you later' on the back of the note and sent Hedwig off again.

* * *

It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far. At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him. Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register. He paused at Nik, Alex _and_ Mia's last names, scowled and then went on as if it didn't mean anything to him. Also like Flitwick, he stopped completely at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity." He said softly. Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death… if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Nik exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Alex was staring at Professor Snape with the same look that she'd had when Nik had told her there was a tarantula by her foot on the train, the one that told Harry she was seriously considering grabbing the professor by the throat and giving him a good shake. Mia was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" _Powdered root of what to an infusion of what?_ Harry glanced at Nik, who looked as stumped as he was, and Alex, who still had that 'I want to choke you' expression on her face. Mia's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir." Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored Mia's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Mia stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? Snape was still ignoring Mia's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfs-bane?" At this, Mia stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know. I think Mia does, though, why don't you try her?" A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down." He snapped at Mia.

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said:

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter." Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class were standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snapped, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand.

"I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing." Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

"That is so unfair!" Alex cried from by her cauldron, where she'd been paired up with Hermione Granger, who was ignoring the whole situation as she stirred her potion.

"Who told you life was fair, Miss Black? _Five _points from Gryffindor! Get back to work." Alex actually stepped forward to throttle him before Nik gave her a good kick in the leg that sent her back to her place.

"Don't push it. I've heard Snape can turn very nasty." He whispered as Snape went back to the front of the classroom.

"Too late." Alex mumbled under her breath.

* * *

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much?

"Cheer up. Snape's took points off for me too!" Alex reminded him, still fuming at the unfairness of the class. Nik, however, seemed to be in higher spirits than them.

"Hey, can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

* * *

At five to three Harry, Nik and Alex left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the ForbiddenForest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door. When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang, back." Hagrid's big hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on. Back, Fang!" He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire and in a corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

'Make yerselves at home,' said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Alex and started licking her face and neck. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Nik and Alex." Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes on to a plate.

"A Lupin and a Black, huh?" Hagrid asked. Alex looked down at once, busying herself with petting Fang.

"Oh, don't ya worry none, I'm not the kin' a man to judge based on yer father." Hagrid assured her. Alex half smiled. The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry, Nik and Alex pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang had seem to taken a liking to Alex, as he rested his head on her knee and drooled all over her robes. Harry, Nik and Alex were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch 'that old git'.

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it." Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Alex, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish! Why should he?" Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

"So I hear yer livin' with the Lupin's, Alex? I remember Remus from back in the day." Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST _

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. 'But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon. _

"Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!" There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

* * *

As Harry, Alex and Nik walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?


	5. The Midnight Duel

**A/N As always, please review. **

* * *

Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room which made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical. Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." Harry said darkly. He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know you'll make a fool of yourself. It's possible and probable, but it's not a guarantee." Harry wasn't sure whether to thank Alex for that or not, so he said nothing.

"Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk." Nik added. Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Alex and Nik said that Remus had been given toy brooms for their first birthdays and spent the next couple years flying around. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Nik had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about football. Nik just couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Nik prodding Dean's poster of West Ham football team, trying to make the players move. Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. Mia was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book – not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd got out of a library book called Quidditch through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Mia's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post. Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall! Gran knows I forget things. This tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red… oh." He stopped his explanation because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet.

"You've forgotten something ..." He added, seemingly talking to himself. Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Harry, Nik and Alex jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor!" Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking." He said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

* * *

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Nik, Alex and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps into the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the ForbiddenForest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broom-broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard older students complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. heir teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say: Up!"

"UP!" Everyone shouted. Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Mia's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Harry, Alex and Nik were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –." But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" She shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and… WHAM. A thud and a nasty crack left Neville face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily towards the Forbidden Forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist. Come on, boy, it's all right, up you get." Harry heard her mutter. She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear." Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Parvati Patil snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom? Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati." Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl, said.

"Look!" Malfoy cried, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass.

"It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy." Harry quietly said. Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect… How about… Up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt on to his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying: he could fly well, hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, 'Come and get it, Potter!'. Harry grabbed his broom.

"No! Madam Hooch told us not to move! You'll get us all into trouble!" Mia shouted. Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared, air rushed through his hair and his robes whipped out behind him and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught. This was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasps of girls, excluding Alex, back on the ground and admiring whoops from Nik and Alex. He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here or I'll knock you off that broom!" Harry called.

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy asked, trying to sneer, but looking worried. Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leant forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands and it shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about turn and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy." Harry called. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" He shouted and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down. The next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball. Wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching. He stretched out his hand. A foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!" His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.

"Never… In all my time at Hogwarts…" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock and her glasses flashed furiously.

"How dare you! You might have broken your neck!"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-!'

"Be quiet, Miss Black."

"But Malfoy-!"

"That's enough, Mr. Lupin. Potter, follow me, now." Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he'd done it. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid's assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid's bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him? But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you two." Professor McGonagall said and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

"In here." Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" She barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I've found you a Seeker." Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely. The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?" Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive. Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it!" Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" He asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team." Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too. Light, speedy… we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor… a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say." Wood said, now walking around Harry and staring at him.

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks ..." Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

"I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

* * *

"You're joking." It was dinner time. Harry had just finished telling Nik and Alex what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Nik had a piece of steak-and-kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker? But first-years never… you must be the youngest house player in about…" Nik sputtered.

"A century." Harry informed him, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon.

"Wood told me." Nik was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry. Alex was eating her apple pie, occasionally putting in her two cents but otherwise staying out of the conversation. Harry had quickly learned that while Nik was one of the biggest Quidditch fans in Hogwarts, Alex could live with or without it; she was indifferent to the entire game.

"I start training next week. Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret." Harry told him. Just then, Malfoy turned up, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you." said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on any time on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has. Nik and I will be his second and third. Who's yours?" Nik choked on his pie and stared at Alex as she spoke. Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe and Goyle, of course. Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked." When Malfoy had gone, Nik and Harry looked at each other and then over at Alex.

"What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you're my second?" Harry asked her.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die." Alex told him casually, getting started at last on her cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, she went on.

"But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway." She told him, shrugging it off.

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" He asked fearfully. Alex smirked and he knew he shouldn't have asked that.

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose."

"Excuse me." The trio looked up. It was Mia.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Nik asked himself, picking at the remains of his pie. Mia ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying."

"Bet you could." Nik muttered.

"And you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business." Harry told her. Alex looked up at her and smirked.

"Bye now."

* * *

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn't back from the hospital wing). Nik and Alex had spent all evening giving him advice such as 'If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them'. There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness. This was his big chance to beat Malfoy, face to face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half past eleven. We'd better go." Nik muttered at last. They pulled on their dressing-gowns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, where Alex was waiting for them, half asleep, and into the Gryffindor common room. Nik shook Alex awake and pulled her to her feet. A few embers were still glowing form the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them:

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry." A lamp flickered on. It was Mia, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown.

"You! Go back to bed!" Alex snapped.

"I almost told Percy, the prefect…" She informed them. Harry couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Come on." He said to Alex and Nik. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. But Mia wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed the three of them through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves? I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells!" Mia went on.

"Go away!"

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-." But what they were, they didn't find out. Mia had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Mia was locked out of GryffindorTower. Her skin paled, her blonde hair and blue eyes sticking out even more.

"Now what am I going to do?" She moaned, running a hand nervously through her hair and taking deep breaths to the point where she was near hyperventilating.

"That's your problem. We've got to go, we're going to be late." Nik told her. They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Mia caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you." She said.

"Yeah and I've got a unicorn hiding in my purse." Alex said sarcastically. Even in the dark corridor, they could see mia's confused face. Alex rolled her eyes.

"You are not coming with us." She clarified.

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I

was trying to stop you and you can back me up." Mia explained.

"You've got some nerve –!" Alex started loudly.

"Shut up, both of you! I heard something." Harry said sharply. It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" Nik asked fearfully, squinting through the dark. It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours. I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's "Pig snout" but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." Alex explained to him.

"How's your arm?" Harry added.

"Fine. Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good… well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later –."

"Don't leave me! 'I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already." Nik looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Mia and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learnt that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you." Mia opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Nik exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward. They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed towards the trophy room. Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out." Nik whispered. Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak. And it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.

"He calls his cat 'my sweet'?" Alex asked, disgusted. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other four to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere… probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. He tripped, grabbed Nik around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following. They swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him." Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering. Alex was glaring at me, kneeling and gasping for breath. Nik and Mia were beside Harry, coughing and gasping as well.

"I…told… you…I…told… you." She choked out.

"We've got to get back to GryffindorTower as quickly as possible." Nik reminded them.

"Malfoy tricked you. You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you. Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off." Mia explained, catching her breath. Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Let's go." It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves, please, you'll get us thrown out." Mia was begging. Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." Alex joined in on the begging.

"Should tell Filch, I should. It's for your own good, you know." His eyes twinkled wickedly.

"Get out of the way" Nik snapped, taking a swipe at Peeves. This was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door…and it was locked.

"This is it! We're done for! This is the end!" Nik moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over." Mia snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock and whispered, 'Alohomora!'. The lock clicked and the door swung open. They hurried in, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves? Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please'."

"Don't mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please." Peeves said in his annoying sing-song voice.

"All right – please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked. I think we'll be okay… Get off, Neville!" Harry hissed For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's dressing-gown for the last minute.

"What?" Harry turned around and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare. This was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob. Between Filch and death, he'd take Filch. They fell backwards. Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared. All they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" She asked, looking at their dressing-gowns hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that… pig snout, pig snout!" Harry panted. The portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling into armchairs. It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does." Alex was the first to speak. Mia had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?" She snapped.

"The floor." Alex suggested dryly.

"I wasn't looking at its feet; I was too busy with its heads." Harry added.

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at them.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed… or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." Nik stared after her, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind. You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?" But Mia had given Harry something else to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something ... What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide… except perhaps Hogwarts. It looked as though Harry had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was…


	6. Halloween

**.**

* * *

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry, Nik and Alex were still at Hogwarts next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by next morning Harry, Nik and Alex thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled the two god-siblings in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous." Alex said.

"Or both." Nik added. But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Neither Neville or Mia showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again. Mia was now refusing to speak to Harry, Nik and Alex but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived with the post about a week later. As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. _

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your first training session. _

_Professor M. McGonagall _

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Nik and Alex to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand! I've never even touched one…." Nik moaned.

"So? It's a broom. It feels like any other broom." Alex reminded him. Nik just stared at her like she'd grown a third eye for saying that. But she joined them as they left the Hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first lesson, but halfway across the Entrance Hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick." He said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face.

"You'll be for it this time, Potter, first-years aren't allowed them." Nik couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?' Nik grinned at Harry.

"Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." He explained.

"What would you know about it, _Lupin_? Not like you have one." Malfoy sneered. Before Nik could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys and… er, girl?" He squeaked, glancing at Alex.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor." Malfoy said quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right. Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir." Harry said, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it." He added. Harry, Nik and Alex headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true. If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be in the team ..." Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase.

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" Came an angry voice from just behind them. Mia was

stomping up the stairs looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us." Alex reminded her.

"Yes, don't stop now. It's doing us so much good." Nik added. Mia marched away with her nose in the air.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory, where his new broom-stick, or straying off to the Quidditch pitch where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating and then rushed upstairs with Nik to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow." Nik sighed as the broomstick rolled on to Harry's bedspread. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

* * *

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off towards the Quidditch pitch in the dusk. He'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the pitch so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the pitch were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high. Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling… He swooped in and out of the goalposts and then sped up and down the pitch. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down!" Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice. I see what McGonagall meant ... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week." He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right. Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers." Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football.

"This ball's called the Quaffle. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score…So that's sort of like basketball on broom sticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" Wood asked curiously.

"Never mind." Harry said quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper – I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our

hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper. And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" Harry pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now. Take this." He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do. These two are bludgers." He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back." Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers. At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it breaking his nose and sent it zig-zagging away into the air. It zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely.

"The Bludgers rocket around trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team. The Weasley twins are ours – it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them towards the other team. So – think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goalposts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team." Harry reeled off.

"Very good." Wood said.

"Er…have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?' Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers-."

"– unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers…I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves." Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"This is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages… I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep… Well, that's it. Any questions?" Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet." Wood said, carefully shutting it back inside the crate.

"It's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these." He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket, and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year…I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons…"

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive had ever done. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics. On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Alex (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Nik, however, was to be working with Mia. It was hard to tell whether Nik or Mia was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing." Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual, squeaked.

"Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." It was very difficult. Harry and Alex swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skywards just lay on the desktop. Alex got so impatient that he prodded it with her wand and set fire to it. Harry had to put it out with his hat, which made Alex howl with laughter. Nik, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong! It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. Make the gar nice and loud!" Harry heard Mia tell him.

"You do it, then, if you're so clever." Nik snarled. So Mia rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand and said, 'Wingardium Leviosa!' Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping.

"Everyone see here, Miss Honeycutt's done it!"

Nik was in a very bad temper by the end of the class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly." Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Mia. Harry caught a glimpse of her face and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends." Mia didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry, Alex and Nik overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' toilets and wanted to be left alone. Nik looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Mia out of their minds. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. Harry was just helping himself to a jacket potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the Hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair and slumped against the table.

"Troll… in the dungeons…thought you ought to know…" He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Percy Weasley was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first-years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first-years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a Prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid." Nik said. They both glanced at Alex, waiting for her to say something about how Nik must be part troll.

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke." Harry suggested when Alex did nothing but stare at her feet. They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Alex stopped dead. Harry and Nik looked back at her.

"What?"

"Mia."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll!" She reminded them. Nik and Harry exchanged looks. Then, ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor and hurried off towards the girls' toilets. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" Nik hissed, pulling Harry and Alex behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered.

"Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?" Nik added thoughtfully.

"Search me." Alex replied. Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor." Harry said, but Nik held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?" Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. And then they heard it – a low grunting and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed: at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving towards them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible and not in a good way. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock. We could lock it in." Harry whispered.

"Good idea." Nik agreed nervously.

"No!" But they ignored Alex's protests as they edged towards the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door and lock it.

"Yes!" Flushed with their victory they started to run back up the passageway towards Alex. She smacked both of them on the arms.

"That's the girl's toilets! Mia!" As if to back her up, a high pitched scream came from the chamber they'd just locked up. It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around they sprinted back to the door with Alex right behind them and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and they ran inside. Mia was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"Confuse it!" Harry cried desperately to Nik and Alex. Seizing a tap he threw it as hard as he could against the wall. The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" Nik yelled from the other side of the chamber and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Nik instead, giving Harry and Alex time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Mia, trying to pull her towards the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Nik, who was nearest and had no way to escape. Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped. It had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club. Mia had sunk to the floor in fright as Alex just stared in shock at Harry bravery and stupidity; Nik pulled out his own wand, not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry out the first spell that came to mind.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over and dropped, with a sickening crack onto it's owners head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble. Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Nik was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. It was Mia who spoke first.

"Is it… dead."

"I don't think so… I think it's just been knocked out." Harry replied. He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

"Ugh… toll boogies." He wiped it on the troll's trousers as he heard Alex and Mia gagging behind him. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Nik, Alex and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" Professor McGonagall asked with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Nik, who was still standing with his wand in the air.

"You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Nik would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall…they were looking for me."

"Miss Honeycutt!" Mia had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I… I thought I could deal with it on my own… you know, because I've read all about them." Nik dropped his wand. Mia Pettigrew-Honeycutt, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Alex kept trying to get me leave but Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Nik knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." Harry, Alex and Nik tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well…in that case ..." Professor McGonagall said, staring at the four of them.

"Miss Honeycutt, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Mia hung her head. Harry was speechless. Mia was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Honeycutt, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to GryffindorTower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Mia left, head still hanging. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Alex and Nik.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first-years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go." They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have got more than fifteen points." Nik grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Mia." Harry corrected him.

"It was good of her to get us out of trouble like that." Alex reminded them.

"Mind you, we did save her." Nik shot back.

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her." Harry reminded him. They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout." They said and entered. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Mia, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they mumbled a 'thanks' to each other and hurried off to get plates. But from that moment on, Mia Pettigrew-Honeycutt became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	7. Quidditch

**A/N I haven't updated in a while. I apologize. I hope you like this chapter, though. Please review. **

* * *

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows, defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long mole-skin overcoat, rabbit-fur gloves and enormous beaverskin boots. The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor verus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship. Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow and Harry didn't know which was worse: people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath holding a mattress. It was really lucky that Harry now had Mia as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have got through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also lent him Quidditch through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read. Harry learnt that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert. Mia had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry, Nik and Alex had saved her from the mountain troll and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire which could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Mia, Alex and Nik and one moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" It was Quidditch through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up." Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" He added. Alex shrugged it off and turned back to the blue fire.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him."

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Nik, Alex and Mia sat together next to a window. Mia checking Harry, Nik and Alex's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ('How will you learn?'), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway. Harry felt restless. He wanted Quidditch through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? Getting up, he told the rest of the quartet that he was going to ask Snape if he could have it.

"Rather you than me." They said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening. He made his way down to the staff room and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside – and a horrible scene met his eyes. Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing… How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but…

"POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."

"GET OUT! OUT!" Harry left, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. He sprinted back upstairs.

"Did you get it?" Nik asked as Harry joined them.

"What's the matter?" Alex asked worriedly, seeing his expression. In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.

"You know what this means? He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him…he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to create a diversion!" Mia's eyes were wide.

"No… he wouldn't. I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, Mia, you think all teachers are saints or something! I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

* * *

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind. He needed to sleep, he had to; he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours. But the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

* * *

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." Alex told him before taking a bite of bacon.

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast." Wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry." Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking on to the pitch.

"Harry, you need your strength. Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team." Nik piped up.

"Thanks, Nik."

* * *

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes. Nik, Mia and alex joined Neville, Seamus and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Rodney had apparently ruined in Mia's dormitory. It said Potter for President and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Mia had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors. Meanwhile, in the changing rooms, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green). Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men."

"And women." The Chaser, Angelina Johnson, added.

"And women. This is it."

"The big one." said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for." said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart." Fred told Harry.

"We were in the team last year."

"Shut up, you two. This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." He glared at them all as if to say, 'Or else.'

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you." Harry followed Fred and George out of the changing room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked on to the pitch to loud cheers. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the pitch, waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,' she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please." Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-!"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor.' The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc– no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!" Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!" Nik, Alex and Mia squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut. But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope. Harry hasn't had much to do." Nik explained.

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's something." Hagrid said, raising his binoculars and peering skywards at the speck that was Harry. Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch." Wood had said.

"We don't want you attacked before you have to be." He had said. When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let out his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannon ball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" He had time to yell as he beat the Bludger furiously towards Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession. Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?" A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downwards after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled towards the Snitch. All the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to watch. Harry was faster than Higgs. He could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead. He put on an extra spurt of speed… WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below. Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose and Harry's broom span off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors. Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again. Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, 'Send him off, ref! Red card!'.

"This isn't football, Dean." Alex reminded him.

"You can't send people off in Quidditch – and what's a red card?" Nik asked. But Hagrid was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air." Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-."

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-.'

"Jordan, I'm warning you-."

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession." It was as Harry dodged another Bludger which went spinning dangerously past his head that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that. It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back towards the Gryffindor goalposts; he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time out – and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zig-zagging through the air and every now and then making violent swishing movements which almost unseated him. Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherin score – oh no ..." The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing." Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars.

"If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom ... but he can't have ..." Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have. Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand." Hagrid said with a shaking voice. At these words, Mia seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Nik moaned, grey-faced.

"I knew it! Snape! Look!" Alex grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.

"He's doing something… Jinxing the broom!" Mia said.

"What should we do?" Nik asked.

"Leave it to me." Before Nik could say another word, Mia had disappeared. With a small groan, Alex hurried after her. Nik turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasley's flew up and tried to pull Harry to safety on one of their brooms, but it was no good. Every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Mia…" Nik muttered desperately. Alex had caught up with Mia and the two of them had fought their way across to the stand where Snape stood and was now racing along the row behind him; they didn't even stop to say sorry as they knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, Mia crouched down, pulled out her wand and whispered a few, well chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand on to the hem of Snape's robes. It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket she scrambled back along the row – Snape would never know what had happened. It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back onto his broom.

"That was wicked, Mia." Alex amended as they made their way back towards Nik and Hagrid. Mia smiled shyly.

"Thanks. Alex gave her a high-five as they reached their places by Nik and Hagrid again.

"Neville, you can look! Nik said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes. Harry was speeding towards the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick. He hit the pitch on all fours, coughed and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" He shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

* * *

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it!" Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference. Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result: Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Nik, Alex and Mia.

"It was Snape. Alex, Mia and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you." Nik explained.

"Rubbish. Why would Snape do somethin' like that?" Hagrid asked. The quartet looked at each other, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him… He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding." Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" They all echoed in shock.

"Yeah. He's mine. Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the–."

"Yes?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me any more! That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish! Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Mia asked. The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!" She added.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!'I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –!" Harry grinned.

"Aha! So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?' Hagrid looked furious with himself.


	8. The Mirror of Erised

**A/N I haven't updated in a while. Sorry. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please review. **

* * *

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home." Draco Malfoy said during one potions class. He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that Slytherin had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broom. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family. It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come round the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had. Alex was staying too; she said she wanted to stay with Harry instead of going home. Nik and Mia, however, were going home. When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Nik asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Nik."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them.

"Are you trying to earn some extra money, Lupin? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose that would an upgrade over staying with _Alexis Black_." Nik dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"LUPIN!" Nik let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape." Hagrid said, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree.

"Malfoy was insultin' his sister."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid. Five points from Gryffindor, Lupin, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you." Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him one day… One day…" Nik growled.

"I hate them both. Malfoy and Snape." Harry agreed.

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas. Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat." So Harry, Nik, Mia and Alex followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree. Put it in the far corner, would you?" The Hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls and no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one." Mia replied.

"And that reminds me, Harry, Nik, Alex, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library." She added.

"Oh yeah, you're right." Nik agreed, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library? Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?" Hagrid asked, following them out of the Great Hall.

"Oh, we're not working. Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is." Alex replied brightly.

"You what?!" Hagrid looked shocked.

"Listen here… I've told yeh before: drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'!"

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all." Mia said innocently.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble? We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere. Just give us a hint. I know I've read his name somewhere." Harry explained.

"I'm sayin' nothin'." said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then." Nik said, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library. They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows. Mia took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Nik and Alex strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing." Harry said quickly. Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on, out!" Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Nik, Alex and Mia had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to. Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for a fortnight, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks. Five minutes later, the other three joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you? And send me an owl if you find anything." Mia said. They nodded in agreement.

* * *

Once the holidays had started, Alex and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork, bread, crumpets, marshmallows, and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work. Alex also started teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Alex's set, which was technically Nik's which he'd left behind, was very old and battered.

"You're a good player." Harry amended to Alex as they picked up the pieces of their latest game. She shrugged.

"I'm a horrible player compared to Nik. You should go up against him if you want a real challenge. No one has beaten him that I know of."

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early next morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Happy Christmas." He jumped and looked at Alex, who was in his doorway, wearing her pink night gown and carrying her presents.

"You too. Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" Alex settled herself on Nik's bed to open her presents. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note.

_We received your message and enclosed your Christmas present. _

_From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. _

Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly." Harry said sarcastically. Alex was fascinated by the fiftypence piece.

"Weird! What a shape! This is money?" She asked.

"You can keep it." Harry told her, laughing at how pleased she was.

"Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from. Uncle Remus." Alex told him. He had ripped it open to find a book on Quidditch.

"And those must be from the Tonks'." She explained.

"The Tonks'?"

"Yeah. Ted and Andromeda Tonks, my honorary uncle and aunt. They're daughter, Tonks, used to babysit Nik and me. She's training to be an Auror now."

"They named their daughter Tonks Tonks?"

"It's a nickname. Her full name is actually Nymphadora Tonks, but she'll hex you so bad you're grandchildren feel it if you call her that." Alex explained, pulling out the nice black leather, studded jacket that had a note clipped onto it that said '_From Tonks_'. Harry opened the present from Mr. And Mrs. Tonks, which turned out to be a homemade fudge. The gift from Tonks was a huge amount of Chocolate Frogs with a note that said '_you can start collecting the cards. Happy Christmas!_'.

"That's really nice of her." Harry said, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. He had gotten several pastries from Mia and Nik. This left only one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Alex gasped.

"I've heard of those." She said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every-Flavor Beans she'd got from Mia.

"If that's what I think it is… They're really rare, and really valuable." She told him.

"What is it?" Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak. I'm sure it is! Try it on!" She told him. Harry threw the Cloak around his shoulders and Alex gave a

yell.

"It is! Look down!" Harry looked down at his feet, but they had gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in mid-air, his body completely invisible. He pulled the Cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note! A note fell out of it!" Alex told him. Harry pulled off the Cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. _

_It is time it was returned to you. _

_Use it well. _

_A Very Merry Christmas to you. _

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Alex was admiring the Cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these… Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Harry told her. He felt very strange. Who had sent the Cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father? Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open.

"What's all this noise?" Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disappointed.

"Girls are not allowed in the boys dormitory."

"Fine, I'm going." Alex gathered her stuff and left.

* * *

Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce and stacks of wizard crackers. These fantastic crackers were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Alex and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear-admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up on the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him. Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lop-sided. When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a grow-your-own-warts kit and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner. Harry, Alex and the Weasley's spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the grounds. Then, cold, wet and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by beating Alex in a game. After a tea of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor Tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge. It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it. Harry leant over the side of his bed and pulled the Cloak out from under it. His father's ... this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said. He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the Cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling. Use it well. Suddenly, Harry felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this Cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know. He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor. Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked. The library was pitch black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in mid-air, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps. The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope which separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles. They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be. He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open. A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence. The book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. He stumbled backwards and knocked over the lamp which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside. Stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Filch almost in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears. He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library. Restricted Section." Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a short cut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied.

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them." Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him. The Cloak didn't stop him being solid. He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past and Harry leant against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in. It looked like a disused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls and there was an upturned waste-paper basket – but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way. It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it. He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder, but, still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not? He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air. She and the others existed only in the mirror. She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes… her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green, exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just like Harry's did. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mum? Dad?" They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees. Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life. The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness. How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, 'I'll come back,' and hurried from the room.

* * *

"You could have woken me up." Alex said crossly.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."

"I'd like to see your mum and dad." Alex said eagerly.

"Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?" She added. Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really? Alex gave him a weird look.

"Are you all right? You look odd."

* * *

What Harry feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Alex covered in the Cloak too, they had to walk much more slowly next night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing! Let's forget it and go back." Alex complained.

"No! I know it's here somewhere." They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Alex started moaning that her feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here…just here…yes!" They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

"See?" Harry whispered.

"I can't see anything." Alex told him, hugging herself for warmth and looking annoyed.

"Look! Look at them all ... there are loads of them ..."

"I can only see you."

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am." Harry stepped aside, but with Alex in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family any more, just Alex in her soft pink nightgown and tangled hair. Alex, though, was staring transfixed at her. In her eyes, she was looking at her mother and father. Her mother alive, her father, free. She let out a sharp gasp and backed away from the mirror.

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"I saw my… my parents."

"_Your_ parents? You didn't see mine?"

"No. Maybe it's different for each person." She suggested, avoiding looking at the mirror again.

"Why don't you want to see your parents?"

"Because my mom is dead and my dad is in prison. It's not exactly something I'm proud of!" A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Quick!" Alex threw the Cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Alex and Harry stood quite still, both thinking the same thing: did the Cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe. She might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on." And Alex pulled Harry out of the room.

* * *

The snow still hadn't melted next morning.

"Want to play chess, Harry?" Alex tried to connect with him.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

"No ... you go ..."

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno; I've just got a bad feeling about it. And anyway, Harry, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Mia."

"I'm serious, Harry, don't go." But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Alex wasn't going to stop him.

* * *

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone. And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all. Except…

"So, back again, Harry?" Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.

"I… I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you." Dumbledore said, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So,' said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, 'you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It, well, it shows me my family-.'

"And it showed your friend Alexis with her parents.

"How did you know –?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible." Dumbledore said gently.

"Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" Harry shook his head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" Harry thought. Then he said slowly:

"It shows us what we want ... whatever we want ..."

"Yes and no. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Alex, who has never known her father, sees him and her mother alive. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable Cloak back on and get off to bed?" Harry stood up.

"Sir…Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so. You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the Mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks. Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

* * *

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, it had been quite a personal question.


	9. Nicholas Flamel

**.**

* * *

Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the Invisibility Cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk. Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the Mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light while a high voice cackled with laughter.

"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad." Alex, when Harry told her and her god-brother about these dreams. Mia, who came back the day before term started with Nik, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ('If Filch had caught you!') and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other two, because Quidditch practice had started again. Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training. Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just got very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around?!" He yelled.

"That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!" George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Snape's refereeing?" He spluttered through a mouthful of mud.

"When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin." The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault. We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us." Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch ...

* * *

The rest of the team hung back to talk to each other as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Nik and Mia playing chess. Chess was the only thing Mia ever lost at, something Harry and Nik thought was very good for her. Alex was nearby, watching the game because she was too bored to do anything else.

"Don't talk to me for a moment." Nik said when Harry sat down next to him.

"I need to concen–.' He caught sight of Harry's face.

"What's the matter with you? You look terrible." Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play." Was Alex's suggestion.

"Say you're ill." Nik agreed.

"Pretend to break your leg." Mia suggested.

"Really break your leg." Alex added.

"I can't. There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all." At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to GryffindorTower. Everyone fell about laughing except Mia, who leapt up and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" Mia asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Nik and Alex.

"Malfoy… I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall. Report him!" Mia urged him. Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble." He mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Nik told him.

"He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier." Alex told him.

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that." Neville choked.

"I didn't say that!" Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Tonks had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy. The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin." Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the Frog.

"Thanks, Harry ... I think I'll go to bed ... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?" As Neville walked away Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again. He was the first one I ever-." He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at the other three.

"I've found him! I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: "Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel"!" He whispered. Mia jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd got back the marks for their very first piece of home-work.

"Stay there!" She said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry, Nik and Alex barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

"I never thought to look in here! I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" Nik asked, but Mia told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" Nik asked grumpily. Mia ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!" This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

"The what?"

"Oh, honestly, don't you three read? Look! Read that, there." She pushed the book towards them, and the other three read:

_The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera-lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight). _

"See? The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it. That's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!" Mia whispered excitedly.

"A stone that makes gold and stops you ever dying!" Harry gasped.

"No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it." Nik muttered.

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?" Alex added.

* * *

Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Nik were still discussing what they'd do with a Philosopher's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Nik said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play." He told Nik, Mia and Alex.

"If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them ... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win." He went on. Alex nodded once.

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the pitch."

* * *

As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Mia, Nik and Alex. The rest of the team weren't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Philosopher's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could, yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

* * *

Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Nik, Mia and Alex were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand.

* * *

Nik, Alex and Mia, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that the three of them had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd got the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis." Mia muttered as Nik slipped his wand up his sleeve and Alex tucked hers into her boot.

"I know. Don't nag." Nik snapped.

* * *

Back in the changing room, Wood had taken Harry aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" Fred Weasley said, peering out of the door.

"Even… blimey! Dumbledore's come to watch!" Harry's heart did a somersault.

"Dumbledore?" He asked, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try and hurt him if Dumbledore was watching. Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched on to the pitch, something that Nik noticed, too.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean. Look, they're off. Ouch!" Someone had poked Nik in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Lupin, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Lupin?" Nik didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Mia, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor?" Malfoy asked loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.

"Its people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Lupin and everyone knows that people have outcast your father for some reason. Black's got herself a murderer for a father. And Longbottom's got no brains!" Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy before Alex or Nik could say anything.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy." He stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Nik, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said:

"You tell them, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be so poor-." Alex's nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy! One more word-!"

"Alex! Harry –!" Mia cried.

"What? Where?" Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked towards the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Black, Potter's obviously spotted some family dignity on the ground!" Malfoy said. Alex snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Alex was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Nik jumped over to help. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help as well.

"Come on, Harry!" Mia screamed, leaping on to her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape – she didn't even notice Malfoy and Alex rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Nik, Crabbe and Goyle. Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches. Next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand. The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Nik! Alex! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor are in the lead!" Mia shrieked, jumping up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

* * *

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it. The game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling on to the pitch, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped. Then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done." Dumbledore said quietly, so that only Harry could hear.

"Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror ... been keeping busy ... excellent ..." Snape spat bitterly on the ground.

* * *

Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now. No one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Mia, Alex and Nik in the distance, jumping up and down, Nik and Alex cheering through a heavy nosebleed and a busted lip. Harry had reached the shed. He leant against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He'd done it, he'd shown Snape ... And speaking of Snape ... A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the ForbiddenForest. Harry's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner. What was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.

"... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private. Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all." Snape said, his voice icy. Harry leant forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I –."

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell." Snape hissed, taking a step towards him.

"I-I don-t know what you –."

"You know perfectly well what I mean." An owl hooted loudly and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say,

'– your little bit of hocus pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't –."

"Very well. We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

* * *

"Harry where have you been?' Hermione squeaked.

"We won! You won! We won!" Nik shouted, thumping Harry on the back.

"And I gave Malfoy a black eye and Neville tried to take on Crabbe single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right." Alex eagerly added.

"Talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens." Nik added.

"Never mind that now. Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this ..."

* * *

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy. And he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'. I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell which Snape needs to break through-."

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Mia said in alarm.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday." Alex said glumly.


End file.
